Reflections and illusionments-Prologue
by Midori
Summary: This takes place in an alternate universe, I guess you can say. It'll be mainly mimato, some taiora and a hint of takari or daikeru, but this is an intro for now. Anyway, there's an audition for a new band. Who will join, and who will make it? ^^


Prologue   
  


Disclaimer applies, yada yada. Also, I don't think I'll be able to finish one of my other fanfic series. I have a serious writer's block right now. ._.   
  


Her eyes skimmed through the newspaper inconspicuiously, her usual mug of latte dozing off at her side as she wrote down some new writing assignment from her professor. Her glance fell onto a gigantic ad that jumped up from the rest of the paper, it seemed; it was an audition for a new band, managed by the famous Genki Tsumerki. 

"A new band..." She mused quietly to herself, a half-smile forming on her lips. Should she audition? Well, why not? Her friends always did say she had a beautiful soprano voice, never mind that she hated to sing in front of audiences. "I guess not." She blew her breath out in the chilly air, looking self-conciously into a mirror on the adjacent wall. A lonely teenage girl of 18 stared back at her, eyes sorrowful and remorse. Strands of unnatural blonde hair cascaded around her round face, their tips dyed yet again a light shade of purple; lavender, and maybe a dark periwinkle, perhaps. She never bothered to look it up. 

She moved her gaze to the clock on the wall, where the hour hand wheezed and wavered until it struck one o'clock. "I'm late." She dropped her glance back to her newspaper, at the audition again. It was for today, at six, in the Odaiba hall. A slight smile began forming once again as she memorized the address. "If I have nothing better to do..." The bell rang, and she gathered her materials and left.   
  


~*~*~   
  


"I don't think we're getting anywhere. With our singing, I mean." He looked up from his stack of papers, mostly lyrics and songs that his producer had thought of. He paused, letting it sink in. "And...?" 

"I think we should disband." 

He waved offhandedly, shaking his head. "Sure, if it helps." 

"...that's it?" 

"Yeah. I really don't give. If you want to disband, go ahead. Personally, I think this band sucks. So I'm all for it." He stood up, leaving the papers where they were and shrugged into his jacket. "See you later sometime." Grasping his guitar firmly in his hand, he departed from the music studio where he had played lead--in everything. 

Outside, the cold air stung his eyes, making his vision blurry and his breath come out in puffs of steam. He stopped at a newspaper stand to buy a bag of crispy M&M's, and stayed long enough to stare into his reflection from a tiny mirror hung on one side. His reflection was cold; it showed in his icy blue eyes, in his small self-assured smirk he always wore, in his blonde hair with the tips spiked and jagged. He stopped, shrugging to himself and turned his gaze onto a flyer tacked precariously next to the mirror. 

"An audition..." He said outloud silently, his mouth making the correct movements but without a voice to accompany them. He shrugged, partly to himself, and read the address. Clinging his guitar to himself, he walked away.   
  


~*~*~   
  


"Hey, Taichi-san. Have you seen this?" A girl of 19 years called to her best friend sitting on the bleachers lazily. 

His head up immediately, waken from his afternoon doze, and jumped over the few bleachers between him and his friend. "Hey. An audition. Sounds good, and I know you have a great alto voice. Maybe you should try it." 

She blushed lightly at his comment, splotches of crimson forming on her cheeks. "R-really? You think so? You play the guitar pretty well too. Maybe we should both try it. How about it?" 

"Yeah, I suppose. So, when is it?" He read slowly to himself the contest paper, reading never being his strong point, especially since he scored a 450 on his English SAT's. "6:00? Odaiba hall? That's right down the street. We'll have time for it after our soccer practice." 

"Sure thing." She tucked the paper back into her binder, along with her gym bag which smelled of antipersperant and sweaty gym clothes into her backpack. She smiled to herself as she stood up, staring silently at her best friend. Who knows? Maybe I even get to tell him the way I really feel... 


End file.
